


Enough

by ready_to_kick_some_ass



Series: FitzHunter Stories [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bisexual Leo Fitz, Coming Out, Domestic Violence, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 11:25:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17303744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready_to_kick_some_ass/pseuds/ready_to_kick_some_ass
Summary: After he reveals his bisexuality to his drunk father, Fitz seeks shelter at his boyfriend Lance Hunter's place.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Fitz and Hunter are teenagers in this story I guess.  
> Please read the tags.  
> Tell me, if you're missing one that's important to you.

Rain is beating down on Fitz relentlessly, while he’s limping to his boyfriend’s place slowly. The grey sky above him seems like a perfect mirror of his mood.

He feels numb. Everything hurts. His head is heavy and from time to time, a sharp throbbing pain shoots through it without any warning. There’s a sickening taste of iron in his mouth, from the blood still trickling out of his nose.

Lance Hunter opens the door as Fitz knocks timidly. The expression in his eyes changes from pleasant surprise to shock, in a heartbeat. “Fitz. Bloody hell … What happened?”

„I told him,” Fitz simply says. It comes out slurred.  

Hunter swallows hard, when he realizes what that means.

Fitz finally told his bastard of a father, a drunk loser who decided to take all his anger and frustration out on his only son, that he has a boyfriend. And obviously that arsehole didn’t take that in well.  

“Come in,” Lance says, carefully laying an arm around his boyfriend and leading him inside the flat. He gets him out of his rain drenched jacket and his worn out boots. He feels Fitz shiver under his touch and the worry makes his throat feel tight.

Fitz has been through way too much of this shit since his mother died in a car crash. This is just the climax of something that should have been stopped much sooner.

Lance gently pushes Fitz towards the living room, where it’s warm. His mother left to Ireland, to visit some relatives. So he and Fitz are alone, what’s probably for the best.

“Sit down,” he tells Fitz, who drops on the couch with a stifled groan. He tilts his head back and breathes heavily, his face contorted in pain.

“I’ll be right back,” Lance tells him.

He hurries off into the bathroom to fetch a first aid kit. He also gets some painkillers out of his mother’s drawer.

When he comes back into the living room, Fitz sits slumped on the couch, his face buried in both hands.

The sight is heart-breaking. Lance curses himself. Why the bloody hell didn’t he get Fitz out of there sooner. He should have stopped listening to Fitz’s soft explanations of how his father is actually not that bad, only when he drinks. Bullshit. Alistair Fitz is bloody scum. He is everything a father shouldn’t be and he’s way too similar to Hunter’s own father, who’s now rotting in a prison cell, like he deserves to. When Alistair isn't drunk and aggressive, he is sober and useless, sitting on the couch the whole day, yelling at the TV. Fitz has to do everything on his own, while also having to take care of not making his father angry in any way.

A brilliant, sensitive, wonderful, caring genius boy like Fitz deserves someone so much better … especially after he lost his mum, who managed to talk at least some sense into Alistair and was a caring mother who told Fitz to follow his heart and dreams.

It’s a shame.

“Here,” Lance hands Fitz the painkillers together with a glass of water.

After Fitz swallowed the pills and drank the water in one big gulp, Hunter starts to examine his injuries closer.

He gently cups Fitz’s face in his hand and looks at it from all sides, anger and worry making his heart pound wildly in his chest.

Fitz’s right eye is almost swollen shut. Blue and purple, that will soon change into a sickening yellow-green, surrounds it.

His nose is covered in blood and Lance carefully touches it, immediately pulling his fingers back, when Fitz hisses in pain.

“We should get you to hospital,” Lance says worried. “Your nose could be broken …”

Fitz shakes his head frantically and immediately moans, as the movement makes his head spin. “No. It’s not broken. No hospital. Just you.”

“Okay, calm down,” Lance says. He gets up to fetch a washcloth, which he soaks in cold water.

He goes back to Fitz and carefully starts to clean his face with the washcloth.

Fitz flinches at the sudden coldness on his face, but soon relaxes, his breaths getting slower.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lance asks him.

Fitz shivers. “I … I just couldn’t take it anymore,” he whispers.

The memories are painfully clear in his head.

 

_Fitz is working on an important school project._

_He has been alone the whole evening. His father most probably is in some pub in the village again._

_Fitz just hopes he’s going to be so drunk and tired when he comes home, that he will fall asleep on the couch immediately. That is the best scenario he can hope for._

_But it is also the scenario that happens the less._

_And when Alistair comes back, the door to the flat slamming shut so loud that Fitz flinches violently, dropping his pencil, he already knows it isn’t going to be that simple tonight._

_He hears his father walking around in the living room, humming some melody._

_Soon, the floor creaks under heavy approaching steps._

_Fitz feels a shiver running up and down his spine. His stomach drops, and his legs start to tremble. Those sensations are all way too familiar to him by now._

_The next moment, his father is standing in the door to Fitz’s room, staring at him._

_“You,” Alistair grunts, swaying on the spot. His eyes are glassy. The smell of booze spreading in the air is pervasive. Fitz starts to feel sick._

_He doesn’t say anything._

_It is no use._

_There are no right words in those situations._

_He just continues working, hoping he can get away with some insults, to which he is used to by now anyway._

_“You … what did I do, eh? To … to deserve such a worthless … useless … you know the other men … they have proper sons. Not … not some weak girlish idiot, always … always reading books. Think you’re too smart for me, eh?”_

_Fitz feels a hint of anger._ _He knows it shows on his face, because his father eagerly goes on, a glee of spiteful amusement stirring in his glassy eyes._ _“No wonder you get no proper girl. They probably think … think you’re a fag, eh?”_

 _Fitz scoffs._ _He tells himself it’s not a good idea to say anything to this. He knows it isn’t._ _But God, he can’t hold back anymore._ _He really can’t._ _It’s enough …_

_“In fact, I have a boyfriend,” he says right into his father’s face._

You stupid idiot … Now?! _  
_

_Alistair’s eyes widen and his mouth opens and closes a few times. It makes him look like a fish gasping for air. “What?”_

_Despite his anxiety and dull knowing that this can’t end well, Fitz feels a hint of grim triumph. “I have a boyfriend,” he repeats. “And he loves me. Truly.”_

_He knows that he has just twisted the knife in the wound with that._

_Alistair finally seems to get what Fitz just told him._ _He huffs out a hysterical laughter and points at Fitz with a shaking finger._ _“I knew it. I knew it all along that you were a bloody disgusting faggot!”_

_Fitz looks at him coldly, straightening up. “I’m bisexual. I’ve known it for quite a while now. I love my boyfriend and he loves me. There’s nothing you can do to change that. Nothing.”_

_He turns around to leave. He is sick of seeing the red grinning face of his father in front of him._

_The next moment, the air is knocked out of his throat, when Alistair’s fist hits him on the right temple with enough force to send him stumbling, hitting his hip on the edge of his desk. He gasps and instinctively raises a hand to touch the throbbing spot on his temple._

_His sight is blurred, and he doesn’t see the fist until it hits him on the nose this time. And another one above his right eye, making the world a spinning blurry mess. It hurts. A lot._

_He stumbles further backwards, until his back hits the wall and tries to catch his breath. But then hands close around his neck and squeeze, cutting off all air._ _His father’s face is right in front of him, contorted in manic rage._

_“You think there’s nothing I can do? I’ll show you what I’ll do! I’m gonna beat that shit out of you!” Alistair yells, spit hitting Fitz’s face_.

No you won’t.

_The thought is a hot raging fire in Fitz’s mind._

_Enough._

_For the first time ever, he fights back._

_Before Alistair can get another chance to beat him, Fitz pushes his knee up quickly like Lance showed him once, hitting soft flesh. His father makes a choked off sound and lets go off Fitz, stumbling backwards, his hands reaching down to grab his hurt testicles. “You …” He gasps. “You …”_

_He makes a step towards Fitz again, but he reacts immediately, lunging out to place a hit on his father’s nose this time. Alistair howls and presses both hands on his face, his eyes widened in horror._

_Fitz nods. His knuckles start to burn and he knows the skin is cracked and will bruise, but he doesn’t care. All he’s feeling, is grim satisfaction. “It’s enough,” he whispers. “It’s going to stop. I’m not going to listen to you anymore. I’m not going to let you hit me anymore. Yes, I’m smart. Yes, I have a boyfriend who loves me. I’m going to make something out of my future. You … you are pathetic. I’m not going to be like you. Never.”_

_“You …” Alistair growls again._

_That’s it._

_Fitz runs out of the room. In the hallway he grabs his jacket, opens the door, steps outside into the rain and leaves the yelling, the stench of alcohol and the violence behind him._

 

“I thought he was going to kill me,” Fitz says with a haunted look in his eyes. “I thought … I’ve never seen him that out of his mind. He just grabbed my throat and squeezed. I couldn’t breathe … I thought …”

“You’re safe now,” Lance murmurs and lays his chin on Fitz’s head. He feels his boyfriend trembling.

 _If I had been there_ , he thinks grimly _, there wouldn’t be much left of that bloody pig._ In fact, a part of him screams for going there and teach that alcoholic arsehole a lesson. But no. Fitz needs him now. And they’re better than their fathers. They don’t need that violence _…_

Fitz shakes his head. His next words are uttered with a hint of uncertainty. “I … Maybe I shouldn’t have provoked him … It’s my fault it escalated that way.”

„No. You did nothing wrong, love. You should never have to hide yourself. It’s not your fault, that he’s such an arsehole,” Lance hurries to say and strokes a hand through Fitz’s curls. “You’re not to blame for any of this. It’s his fault alone. He chose the alcohol over his family.”

“I can’t go back there,” Fitz mumbles. He exhales shakily and his eyes well up.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Lance says and carefully wraps his arms around Fitz to pull him closer. “You don’t have to go back there. You’re going to stay with me.”

Fitz looks up at him surprised. “You’re sure?”

“Of course. Look, my mother … when she’s back, we will tell her and she will get it. Remember, soon we’ll be done with bloody annoying school anyway, and then we can do what we want. We’re going to go to university. You can finally do engineering. Your dream, Fitz. It’s almost time to live it. The future lies in front of us, love.”

Fitz manages a weak smile which warms Lance's heart. “Yeah. The future …”

Future means freedom. 

“You know, I still can’t believe a genius wants to be with _me_ ,” Lance tells him. “I can’t believe I’m going to stand in the crowd one day, while you’re getting your prizes for inventing awesome stuff, and I’m going to point at you and yell, 'that’s my boyfriend!' And no one is going to believe me.”

Fitz chuckles. “You’re such an idiot sometimes. As if you’re any less of a genius …” He sighs and cuddles closer to Lance. He gets more serious again. The shadow in his eyes is back. “I’m so tired,” he murmurs. “But I’m scared what’s waiting for me in my dreams …”

“I’ll be there,” Lance tells him. “I’m protecting you.”

Fitz looks up at him pleadingly. “Will you wake me up? If I have a nightmare?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.”

They sit there for a moment in silence. Hunter runs a hand through Fitz’s curls and listens to the rain beating against the windows.

There’s a thought burning in his mind. He finally speaks it out, serious and urging. “You have to make sure that he gets punished for what he did, Fitz. You can’t let him get away with this. Go to police. Get him arrested and testify against him.”  
  
Fitz shudders. “I don’t know if I can do that ...”

“I know you can. You’re strong. Look what you did today. You stood up against him. And I’ll be there, you won’t have to do it alone. Let him get what he deserves, Fitz.”

Fitz swallows hard, but then he nods. He knows Lance is talking from experience. He brought his own father into prison, when he got violent against him and his mother. Their similar family background is a strong connecting band between them. Only one of many. “You’re right. I’m going to do that. Tomorrow, as soon as I’m awake,” he says determined.

Lance kisses his forehead. “I’m with you, whatever you do and wherever you go.”

Fitz looks up at him. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“I love you too,” Lance tells him. “And we’re going to be so happy, Fitz … I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker and always grateful for being corrected! I'm constantly trying to improve my English, so please don't hesitate to tell me about mistakes. <3
> 
> Visit me on tumblr: [ready-to-kick-some-ass](https://ready-to-kick-some-ass.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
